


Scar Tissue

by ALittleDitty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, But Derek can also be human, California, Clubbing, Cunnilingus, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek is a werewolf if you squint, Drinking, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Smut, I just want Derek and Stiles to be happy, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jeeps, M/M, Not Beta Read, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Road Trips, San Francisco, Smut, Stiles Stilinski Is Bad at Feelings, not beta read we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALittleDitty/pseuds/ALittleDitty
Summary: Stiles had only planned on staying in San Francisco for three days.After that, he would continue his three month road trip across the states. He knew the city was full of amazing places and people, but he wouldn't let it deter him from his original plans, right?Oh, how wrong he was.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	1. Theo

Stiles only planned on staying in San Francisco for three days. 

The famous city was high on his sightseeing list, but unfortunately, his meticulous schedule didn’t have much wiggle room. If he was going to visit all the 50 states and their big landmarks by the end of the summer, he would have to stay in the golden city for three days. No more, no less. 

The map he kept in his glove compartment had the whole road trip laid out. From Beacon Hills, he would drive to Sacramento, then San Francisco. He would then head down the coast, stopping in LA to enjoy the sea breeze of the Santa Monica pier and Hollywood’s bright, blinding lights. Next, he planned to drive back up slightly, exploring Death Valley and make a beeline for Las Vegas after. Once he hit Nevada, he would drive more or less straight, traveling through the southern states.

Stiles had it all laid out.

He didn’t have too much planned for the first day compared to the others. He entered the city around noon. The sun was high and the air so hot, he could see little waves of heat radiating off the pavement. After quickly ordering and stuffing himself at a fast food joint, he set course for the motel he’d be staying in for the next few days.

Once he found the place, he stepped out of his blue Jeep, taking the whole building in.

It was a simple enough motel. The outer walls were rough, similar to popcorn ceilings. They were painted in a deep, yet slightly dull red that reminded Stiles briefly of sunsets. The inner walls were an analogous warm yellow. It wasn’t a great color combination in his opinion, but at least it clearly screamed classic motel.

After making small talk with the concierge and grabbing the keys from the front desk, he explored the second floor veranda, counting the room numbers as he walked. He looked at the walls, pleasantly surprised to find barely any cracks or stains covering them. That was good. It meant that he hadn’t been swindled into paying more than the place was worth.

He smiled once he reached his room and turned the key in the lock, pushing the door open. The room was simple, but livable, just how Stiles liked it. The less things he could get attached to during the trip, the better.

He went through the motions of fixing the room to his liking, much like he did in his hotel back in Sacramento. He opened his suitcase on the bed, sorting through its contents. Picking out three outfits, he hung them up in the tiny motel closet to be used for later. He placed his toiletries bag in the bathroom and finally, nestled his suitcase in the left hand corner of his room, parallel to the bed. There it would stay until he had to put back his belongings and check out of the room in a few days.

Flopping onto the bed, he sighed and stared at the plain, white ceiling, trying to wrap his head around what he was doing. He could already feel the weariness of travelling start to close in on him. He thought it wouldn’t hit until Death Valley, after a week on the road. It hadn’t even been two full days. He hoped it would go away eventually, that it would fade in the background as he hopped from state to state.

He needed to keep telling himself that this was worth it. Rationally, he knows it is. He wanted to learn everything he could about the country and its citizens before heading into law enforcement. He should know who the people he’d be protecting are. He also wanted to feel wild and free, to go on an adventure before entering the workforce. What better way to combine the two things than a cross country road trip? At least, that’s what he thought a few months ago. He wasn’t all that sure now. 

Pushing the negative thoughts out of his head, he pulled himself out of bed and checked his watch. It was nearly evening and he needed to get ready for the night ahead. His stomach growled just thinking about it. He decided that during his first day in San Francisco, he would hit the city’s food trucks and street vendors, eating everything he could. After, he’d dance the calories off at a few different clubs. Finally, he’d go back to the food trucks and binge. If all went well, he’d be returning to the motel room with his legs aching and stomach stuffed.

He pulled his first outfit from the closet and started to undress. He slipped on a black, collared button down after shimmying into a pair of tight, distressed jeans. Tucking the shirt in, he studied himself in the mirror. He looked good. The dark color of the top contrasted nicely against his pale skin, accentuating the moles scattered across his face and neck. Adding a black belt and unbuttoning the shirt slightly, he was satisfied with the look. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he made his way down to the Jeep, excited for the night ahead.

. . .

Only a few hours later, Stiles was sitting down at the bar of a random club, regretting eating as much as he had. As his stomach gurgled angrily, he sipped his whiskey sour, wondering if he should have stopped eating after the fish tacos or the pork buns.

He let his eyes stray to the dance floor where different groups and couples were dancing together, bodies tightly packed and pressed to each other. They seemed to be having a fun time, spending their free night with their friends and close ones. He sighed and gripped his cool glass a bit tighter, staring at its contents. He could feel a heavy emptiness in his chest that he knew all too well. 

Loneliness. It had finally hit him that he was all alone and would continue to be for months until he finished his road trip. 

Fueled by impulse and slight anger, he downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. The glass tumbler hit the table with a loud clunk, only slightly muted by the blaring club music. Right as it did so, the bitterness of the cocktail hit him, forcing him to close his eyes and scrunch up his nose at the taste. He waited for the tang to dissipate, keeping his eyes closed. He opened them soon after though to acknowledge the bartender and the new whiskey sour that had been placed in front of him.

“It’s already been paid for,” the bartender answered once Stiles raised a brow in his direction. The man gestured with his head towards another guy sitting on Stiles’ left, only a few chairs away.

The man looked to be the same age as him and wore a tight teal t-shirt that left little to the imagination. A brown leather jacket was hooked to the back of the stranger’s chair. He was really good looking. And he was staring straight at Stiles.

As they locked eyes, the man’s smile widened and he started to get up, grabbing the jacket while making his way to him. He slung the coat onto a chair right next to Stiles and sat down with an unexpected grace. The man wore a kind smile, but he could tell that there was more to the stranger from the mischievous gleam in his eyes. 

Stiles lifted his glass towards the stranger and took a sip. “Thank you for the refill.”

“It’s no problem. My name’s Theo, but I’m much more interested in knowing yours,” the stranger said, tilting his glass in Stiles’ direction and flashing a bright smile. So he was dealing with a player. Great.

“It’s Stiles” he replied, taking another sip, letting the bitter liquid run down his throat.

“Stiles? Well, I definitely won’t be forgetting your name anytime soon.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes, used to new people commenting on his odd name. It was low hanging fruit that most went for, apparently including Theo.

After seeing his reaction, Theo added, “Not because your name is uncommon, but because it’s unique and lovely” his gaze traveled down Stiles’ body, “Like you.”

As cheesy as it was, the comment still made Stiles blush. It seemed like Theo wasn’t going for low hanging fruit after all. 

“You’re here alone too?” Stiles asked, trying to recover from the previous statement.

“Yeah, I got off of work earlier than usual and was craving a classic Negroni. And from my years of experience with the clubs in this city, this one seems to make it the best.” Theo replied, taking a sip of his drink and sighing contently as if to prove his point.

“Well, in that case it must be really good.” Stiles said in between languid sips of his cocktail.

“You should try one. Here,” Theo said while waving the bartender over, ordering yet another drink for him. He paled, thinking about how his singular cocktail turned into three in only a few minutes.

Theo seemed to catch on to his apprehension. The stranger’s eyes narrowed slightly, his smile turning into a smirk. “Can’t hold your liquor? That’s ok, we can share the drink.”

In any other situation, Stiles would have puffed out his chest and drank the whole thing, taking the challenge. But in the middle of an unfamiliar city with an unfamiliar person? He was happy to share the cocktail with Theo.

Unfortunately, even after restricting himself to only half the Negroni, Stiles started to feel a warm buzz developing in the back of his mind. It was slowly making its way throughout his body, loosening his limbs and lips. At least the cocktail was as good as Theo said. He couldn’t remember how it happened, but he found himself telling the man all about his road trip, each detail and landmark tumbling out accompanied with small, quick hand gestures. When he finally finished his tangent about the ungodly amount of bagel shops in New York, Theo threw his head back and laughed clutching his sides.

“You really have this whole trip planned down to the detail don’t you?” he asked after his fit of laughter died down.

“Yup” Stiles replied, popping the p. Even though he was having a good time with Theo, he couldn’t help but glance at the dancefloor occasionally, still packed and thrumming with energy. His initial plan had included some dancing which he still hadn’t done. He was grateful that his stomach no longer hurt though, probably thanks to all the drinks.

As he looked back to Theo, the man’s hand was held out towards Stiles, palm facing upward. Not understanding what was happening, he kept switching his gaze between Theo’s face and the hand.

“Stiles. You’ve kept looking at the dance floor the entire time we’ve been talking. Wanna dance with me?” Theo asked, flashing his signature smile while rolling his eyes playfully.

Oh. That’s why he had his hand out.   
He continued to be silent for a few seconds contemplating his situation. After talking with Theo, he knew that the guy wasn’t the total gentleman he led on to be. But at the same time, he liked the stranger’s company, especially after feeling so lonely at the beginning of the night.

Screw it, he didn’t want to be lonely anymore.

He grabbed Theo’s hand and practically dragged the other guy out of his seat. He saw Theo’s eyes darken with something primal that made a shudder travel down his spine. He pushed through the horde of people, positioning them closer to the middle of the dance floor where the music was louder and the air was hotter.

The two started to dance and Stiles could finally see the cracks in Theo’s image. The other male was aggressive on the dance floor, instantly pressing himself against Stiles. Theo’s hands ran up his sides and back, roaming over his arms. Theo turned him around so quickly, Stiles only realized which way he was facing after feeling the other man’s hips grind into his ass. A surprised moan left his lips, but he stayed where Theo placed him. He was more than okay with letting the other male take the reins. They stayed like that for a while, grinding into each other in time to the beat. Theo’s hands traveled across his chest, occasionally thumbing his now stiff nipples through the fabric while his mouth nipped at Stiles’ neck, taking advantage of the unbuttoned collar. Stiles was taking it all, rolling in the pleasure. He let his arms drift back to run his hands through Theo’s gelled hair while the other man whispered filthy words in his ears, pushing little whimpers out of him.

He didn’t know if they had stayed on the dance floor for a few minutes or hours. It was all a blur thanks to the alcohol. Eventually, Theo led him away from the crowd of dancers towards the exit of the club, his arm slung over Stiles’ shoulder. He was pressed into Theo, craving more of the man’s warmth. The action drew a dark smile from Theo, his eyes raking over Stiles’ body possessively. As they opened the door, the cool night air hit Stiles, causing him to shiver slightly.

He was vaguely aware that they were heading towards a back alley next to the club and started to feel panicked, scared of what Theo might do. All his apprehension melted away though once the man roughly shoved him into a brick wall and slotted their lips together. Theo took control, rolling Stiles’ bottom lip between his teeth. He gasped, letting the other man push a tongue into his mouth. 

“I’ve been waiting to do this since you got into the club baby. I knew you’d be beautiful under me,” Theo said as he broke the kiss, leaning forward to bite new bruises onto Stiles’ neck. He whined at the statement, bucking his hips into Theo’s.

After what felt like forever, Theo began to move his hands down his stomach, towards Stiles’ crotch. He fumbled with the belt buckle and shoved his hand down his pants, eliciting another loud moan out of Stiles.

Theo’s eyes stayed locked with his as he kneeled down and took Stiles’ cock into his hand. He slowly started to stroke it, rubbing his slit roughly at times. Stiles couldn’t help but buck into the touch, his erection weeping at the attention. But as he did, Theo growled and let go of his dick, holding his hips against the brick wall instead.

“Oh baby, you’re not in control tonight. I am.” Theo growled right before swallowing his cock.

Stiles’ knees were about to give out and his hands tried to find purchase on the wall behind him as he was enveloped by the perfect heat of Theo’s mouth. The warmth muddled his thoughts and he felt powerless, unable to chase release thanks to Theo’s grip on his hips. The man bobbed up and down, occasionally sucking and licking the head, punching whines out of him. The brutal pace he set left Stiles panting and begging for more over and over again.

Once his hips began to relax and stay still, Theo’s hands started to wander up the bottom of his shirt, trying to unbutton it. Stiles’ eyes widened, realizing what the man was doing and his hand shot out, holding Theo’s fingers in a near death grip. 

“Don’t take my shirt off. Please” he pleaded, locking eyes with the other man. He hoped he could hear the desperation in his voice. Theo looked angry at being told what to do, but Stiles thanked the gods above when the man placed his hands back on Stiles’s hips, forgetting about the buttons. 

As Stiles got closer to orgasm, he tried to grip Theo’s hair, but was swatted away. The man pulled off his cock with a pop, looking at him expectantly. “What did I say before baby?”

“You’re in control.” Stiles rasped out in between breaths.

“You’re damn right I am.” Theo replied with a predatory smile and swallowed his cock all the way to the base. Stiles’ mind went blank as he was pushed over the edge. He let out a whorish moan and arched his back as much as he could against Theo’s hands. The other man was taking it all, swallowing Stiles’ load easily. He then got off his knees and slotted himself against Stiles again, this time grabbing his ass.

The groping brought him back to reality and his hands went up to Theo’s chest, weakly pushing him away.

“Do you want to stop?” the man asked, unexpectedly kind. Stiles nodded, looking down. While he enjoyed his time with Theo, it wasn’t what he had planned. Irritation flashed across the other man’s face but as quickly as it came, it was gone. Theo pulled out a pen and roughly pushed Stiles’ long sleeve up to his elbow. He quickly wrote something on his arm and as Theo stepped back, he could see it was the man’s phone number.

“Call me if you ever want to finish what we started!” He shouted back with a wave, leaving Stiles half naked in the back of an alley, in a city he never before visited. 

He eventually made it back to his Jeep and took a short nap in the back, hoping to sober up slightly from both the alcohol and the sex. Luckily, it worked and soon enough, he was back at his half decent, red and yellow motel. He peeked at the clock that read three AM before passing out on the bed, not bothering to change.

The next morning, he woke up feeling groggy, but also peaceful. He lifted up his arm to look at the phone number again, contemplating if the fling was worth missing out on his plans to return to the food trucks at midnight. Eventually, he decided it was, but still entered the bathroom to wash off the number. While he did like certain aspects of Theo, he couldn’t be side tracked from his road trip. One guy he just met wasn’t worth changing his entire schedule. 

Or so he thought.


	2. Lydia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two brings Stiles to the Golden Gate bridge and another stranger with potential of being more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the likes and support on this work! I hope you enjoy this chapter <3

On the second day, Stiles planned to walk around the city and see its sights in the daylight, specifically the Golden Gate Bridge. 

Still slightly disoriented from the previous night, he decided to save the bridge for last, opting to visit the other sights first. He got on a ferry and took a tour of Alcatraz first. He was amazed to learn about all the history behind the tiny island. He was especially interested in the stories of the famous prisoners and how they settled in. He was going into criminology after all. He stared intently at the old prison cells and decrepit walls, trying to imagine all the events that took place in the compound.

By the time he returned to the bay area and made it to Pier 39, most of his grogginess had disappeared. Pier 39 was a good place for him to relax and watch the other people as they passed him by. While he was there, he grabbed lunch and tried some more San Francisco street food. His favorite part of the pier was the sea lions. They would flop onto the docks and floating boards, laying on their stomachs, sunbathing. One sea lion even made eye contact with him and cocked its head, making him grin widely in the animal’s direction.

He was snacking on some leftover fruit from the pier when he finally pulled up into a parking lot near the Golden Gate Bridge. It was still bright and hot outside regardless of his arrival in the late afternoon. As he slung his small backpack onto his back, he winced in slight pain. Looking down, he realized that he was much tanner than he was when he woke up that morning. His shoulders were also tanned, but tinted red, evidence that he didn’t apply enough sunscreen.

After applying more sunblock, he started to move towards the walkway of the bridge. He decided he would walk the length of the bridge first, then the path underneath it before he drove onto the actual bridge. 

He walked slowly, taking everything in. The water was a stark cobalt blue that contrasted nicely with the bright red-orange of the bridge. The two colors mingled in his vision, creating a feeling of peace, but also childish excitement that bubbled up from his stomach. The peace came from the beauty of the bay, the waves that would push in and out and the white clouds that moved lazily across the sky. The excitement came from knowing there were more of these beautiful sights waiting for him all over the country. He would be seeing beautiful, meaningful sights like this for months. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend his time.

He closed his eyes and smiled. It was wide, genuine, and all teeth. He assumed it wouldn’t look so pretty to any other passerby, but it was the only way he could express all the happiness he felt. 

He could feel the sea breeze cooling down his hot, sun kissed skin like a healing balm. It whipped his hair around, tugging it out of place. He absentmindedly wondered if he would leave the city looking like a proper Californian beach boy. Taking a deep breath, he could smell the salt of the Pacific ocean, brought into the bay by the waves. The scent wasn’t overpowering. It was subtle, enhancing all the other senses he was feeling.

He stayed like that for a few minutes, just… being. He breathed out old air, taking in the fresh bay breeze greedily, eventually breathing that out too. The pattern continued for what felt like forever until he finally reopened his eyes, bleary from the length of time they stayed closed.

Deciding he had been satisfied with his experience on the overpass, he walked off, heading down a trail that led under the bridge and to its gift shop.

While the view of the bay was equally as beautiful on the trail, he opted to look at the people around him instead. He saw bikers, joggers, couples and tourists. They all seemed to have a destination in mind, a path they followed, like Stiles and his road trip. The whole scene was interesting, to say the least.

However, as his view sweeped over the people, he realized that there was one woman who didn’t seem to have a reason to be there. She wasn’t dressed in workout clothes like the bikers and joggers and Stiles couldn’t see a map or camera clutched in her hand like most tourists had. She was just there, staring out at the bay. The blue of the water complemented her wavy auburn hair, which oddly reminded Stiles of the Golden Gate Bridge in his peripherals. She wore a simple white dress, patterned with dainty pink roses. It matched a bushel of tall, white wildflowers that grew on the edge of the bank where she was standing. The scene was ethereal to Stiles.

Impulsively, he took out his polaroid camera, snapping a photo of the girl. There was a click, then a flash, and next thing he knew, she was staring straight at him. She didn’t stomp up to him demanding an explanation. Neither did she walk away, trying to distance herself. She just looked at him wistfully, head slightly cocked to one side. For a second, Stiles thought back to the seal on the pier. Her hand slowly lifted up and she beckoned him over. He let out a breath, not realizing that he had been holding it in.

Stiles walked towards her and as he approached, she turned back to stare at the bay like before. He stopped next to her and decided to also stare at the bay, the two standing in silence. The girl was first to speak.

“You were that person on the bridge who was smiling like a crazy man.” She said while still looking out at the bay. Stiles could see her lips stretched out in a soft smile from the corner of his vision.

“Not many people smile like that anymore, especially not in public.” She continued, now looking down at her nails. After a few seconds she looked up and stared right at him. He couldn’t help but stare back.

“What’s your name?” she questioned, hazel eyes boring into his brown ones.

“Stiles” he said instantly. It felt as if she was pulling the answer out of him.

“Why did you take my picture Stiles?” she asked, head cocked again. He expected her to be much more angry. Instead, her tone was one of curiosity and slight amusement.

“I’m on a road trip and I told myself I’d take pictures of beautiful views or landmarks and well,” he quickly fished out the polaroid and handed it to her with shaky hands, “You’re beautiful.”

Her eyes scanned over the photo. It captured her and the Golden Gate Bridge, the serenity of the shot accentuated by the white filmy layer polaroids tended to have. Her gaze shifted to him and he could see something resembling resolve flash across her features. Suddenly, he felt her grab his hand and next thing he knew, Stiles was following the woman down the trail, fingers entwined.

He was speechless and could only look at her back, auburn hair being whipped around by the bay wind. After a few seconds he found his words and planted his feet down, stopping them.

“Ok ok, wait a minute. I have no idea what’s going on right now and you seem really nice and pretty, but I barely even know you and I don’t know if I should follow another stranger like last night,” Stiles babbled, trying to wrap his head around it all.

The girl turned around, looking at Stiles from head to toe. Her grip on his hand tightened slightly and a smirk appeared on her face, widening as he spit out word after word.

“What happened last night?”

Stiles' mouth gaped open, realizing what he had just said. Refusing to answer, he looked down to his feet and could feel his cheeks burn up. He hoped they were already red from the sun so the blush wouldn’t be noticed. 

Her smirk widened even more, if that was possible. Great. She did notice.

“I’m Lydia. I live around here, in the Fillmore district. I’ve been in the city for five years and my favorite color is red. There, now we’re not strangers” she stated, turning back around to start walking again. This time, Stiles let her lead the way, following limply like a doll in her hands.  
She finally stopped in front of the gift shop, a painting of the bridge covering one side of the building. Lydia flashed him a smile and opened the glass door, ushering him in. 

The shop was bigger than he expected and had all different types of paraphernalia. He assumed the store would sell exclusively Golden Gate Bridge merchandise, but it held various types of items based off of different sites in San Francisco. As he stared at everything, he realized that Lydia was no longer next to him, holding his hand. He scanned the shop, trying to find her. When he couldn’t see her head of auburn hair anywhere, he shrugged and walked to the nearest shelf. Of course she left him. What on Earth would such a pretty woman want from a lanky awkward guy like him? It’s ok, he’d just distract himself with the snow globes in front of him.

He was shaking his fourteenth snow globe and decidedly felt much better when someone placed their perfectly manicured hand onto his shoulder, spinning him around. It was Lydia, who apparently hadn’t left like he thought she had. However, she might now if the concerned look on her face said anything.

“Stiles. Have you been shaking snow globes for the past five minutes?” She asked arms crossed, foot tapping against the carpeted floor.

“Maybe” he answered cheekily, smirking down at her.

She raised an eyebrow up at his response and sighed, leading him out of the building. He could feel the sun’s heat on his skin again as Lydia pulled them towards a bench, covered by the shade of a nearby tree. They both sat down and Stiles let out a relieved sigh, not realizing how much he needed a rest until now. He also realized that Lydia was holding a small bag in her hand, adorned with a simplified picture of the Golden Gate.

“I got it for you at the gift shop while you were playing around with snow globes” she explained, scrunching up her nose in mock disgust. “Here. Something to remember me by” Lydia said, nudging the bag into his hands.

He took it, still a bit flustered that she decided to get him anything at all. Happiness flooded through him as he pulled out a simple keychain depicting the Golden Gate Bridge. It was oval shaped and the background was white, little clouds filling it. The accents were bronze, framing the design. It seemed simple at first glance, but had an air of elegance and depth to it, a lot like Lydia.

He never thought a key chain would leave him speechless, but there he was, at a complete loss for words. Doing the first thing he could think of, he hugged Lydia. It was quick and at a slightly awkward angle, but he hoped the embrace let her know how much he appreciated the gift.

“Thank you so much Lydia! You really didn’t have to do this for me. You not yelling about the polaroid and letting me keep it is more than enough to remember you by” he said while pulling back, wondering how lucky he was to meet someone like her during the trip.

Lydia nodded to Stiles in an almost professional manner and started to get up from the bench, dusting off her dress in the process.

“I’m glad you like it. And please, it’s really not a big deal. I wanted to leave you with something more than just a picture.” She checked her watch and took one last look at the bay, then turned to Stiles again. “I need to head out or else I’ll miss my bus, but it was great meeting you and good luck with the rest of your road trip.”

She waved goodbye and started to walk away, the slap of her sandals on the pavement ringing too loud in Stiles’ mind. He knew he should have left it at that, should’ve kept their meeting to a fleeting, simple interaction, but there was a deep, unsatisfied pit in his stomach. It reminded him of last night, fearful that Theo would leave if Stiles refused to dance. He didn’t want her to go just yet.

‘Hey, wait! Lydia!” he shouted, quickly standing up and jogging over to her. “I was planning on driving on the bridge after this, to see it in all its glory. I have a jeep and the view would be really nice and I could take you home after so you wouldn’t have to worry about the bus schedule. You should come. Promise it won’t be weird.” he said, crossing his heart and looking expectantly at Lydia.

She stopped and looked at Stiles with a calculated stare, lips slightly parted as if to retort. She just shook her head knowingly and smiled, sticking out her right hand.

“You’re already weird so how could it not be? Lead the way Stiles, let’s go” she answered, smile turning into more of a smirk.

It was Stiles’ turn to lead the way so he grabbed Lydia and walked in the direction of his jeep, trying to imitate how the woman led him to the gift shop earlier. When they reached the car, he could hear Lydia chuckling behind him.

“Really? You’re going to travel across the whole country in this thing? The piece of junk won’t even last half way” she stated.

“Hey! That’s my piece of junk you’re talking about! And yes, she’ll make it. I have absolute faith in her.” he argued crossing his arms and sticking his nose up in the air. He also had faith in the heavy duty duct tape keeping his car together, but he wasn’t about to tell that to Lydia.

“Okay, whatever you say” she said, rolling her eyes and putting her hands up in mock surrender. Despite her previous voicings of doubt about his car’s condition, she hopped inside.

After a few minutes of snaking his way through traffic and flipping one bad driver off, the car’s tires finally made contact with the bridge. They moved at a snail’s pace, allowing Stiles to look around much more than he would have at the normal speed limit. 

His eyes followed the red suspender cables up to the main cable, a stark, brassy red line cutting his view of the beautiful blue sky in half. The inside of the jeep darkened when it entered into the shadow of the first tower. He was in awe of the massive structure. It posed strength due to its sheer size but also exuded delicacy with its small, thought out details carved onto the sides. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lydia looking up at the suspension bridge in awe as well.

At some point while the car was between the two towers, Lydia lowered her head into Stiles’ lap. He was focused on the abstract shapes made by the sky and various red cables when it happened. As he felt the weight on his lap, he tensed, not knowing whether to look down or keep looking up. He decided on the former option and did not regret it for a second once looking down.

Lydia’s hair was tousled and spread out, framing her face like a halo. The sun made it a fiery orange and brightened her irises to a pale green. She gazed out of the windshield, up to the cables he was staring at seconds ago. There was wonder in her eyes that made her look much younger compared to her usual calculated glare.

“You know, I’ve lived here for five years, came here countless times, saw this exact same view, but it’s never looked as beautiful as this” she whispered so quietly, Stiles wouldn’t have heard her if she wasn’t so close. She locked her eyes with him for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

“I think it’s because I’m here with you.”

His heart skipped a beat and he could feel the blush quickly forming on his cheeks, traveling down his neck. He knew he should have been concentrating on the road in front of him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the woman on his lap. His eyes flickered to her lips and he gulped, confidence growing.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. 

Lydia’s face didn’t change with the question, continuing to simply look up at him. After what seemed like a lifetime, she brought one finger up to Stiles’ face and tilted his chin up.

“Not now Stiles. Eyes on the road. You promised to take me home safely.”

What little confidence he built was instantly crushed. The only thing that kept him from losing all hope and stepping out of the car was her words of not yet. While wallowing in his sadness, he failed to notice Lydia propping herself up until he could feel her warm lips on his.

“I said that you couldn’t kiss me, I never mentioned anything about myself idiot” she stated as she pulled away from him. Stiles didn’t think he could blush more, but Lydia just proved him wrong.

Once making it off the bridge, Stiles let out a deep sigh. The combination of Lydia being with him and the traffic on the Golden Gate left his heart thumping harder than it ever had before. Luckily, he now only had to deal with Lydia. 

“Go left here. Next you pass three stop lights and then take a right” Lydia told him, leading him back to her home.

“Hey Lydia, are you sure those were the right directions?” He asked, utterly confused and parked near a Chevron gas station. She sat up from his lap, shifting her weight to her arms and looking out the window.

“Yeah, you’re in the right place. I wanted to use the restroom” she said in her usual calm voice, opening the Jeep door and stepping out.

“Couldn’t you just wait until you got home? It can’t be worse than a dingy gas station bathroom.” He chuckled, becoming even more confused.

“It’s better for what I want to do right now. Are you coming?” She questioned, peeking her head through the window.

“Why would I go to the bathroom with …” he started then froze, realizing what Lydia was saying. He knew he probably looked stupid, mouth open and eyes wide and Lydia confirmed it with an eyeroll.

“You finally get it? Good come on.”

He practically threw himself out of his car and slammed the door closed, only taking a few seconds to check that it was locked. He jogged up to Lydia who was already opening the bathroom door, looking expectantly at him.

Even though it was the women's room, he squared his shoulders and walked in with faux confidence. Scanning the floor for feet, it seemed like all the stalls were thankfully empty.

“Don’t worry about people coming in. As you said, no one wants to use a ‘dingy gas station bathroom’” she said, making air quotes with both hands.

Her words did little to soothe his nerves as she ushered him into one of the stalls, locking the door behind them. He stood there shifting his weight, not knowing where to start and feeling slightly awkward.

“So, how are we- ” he started, interrupted by Lydia’s lips crashing against his. Not knowing what to do, he relaxed into her touch, letting her take the lead. She finally pulled away after what felt like minutes, leaving Stiles gasping for breath. Lydia’s face was flushed red and he felt some small pride knowing the kiss had affected the impassive woman as well.

“I want you to eat me out Stiles. Can you do that?” Lydia said, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Her words left him dumbfounded for a second time today and he just nodded slowly, trying to wrap his head around the situation. 

Lydia wasted no time getting them into position, her leaning on the side of the stall while pushing him down to his knees onto the bathroom floor. She lifted her dress up and pulled down her underwear, leaving them hanging around her calves. They locked eyes and Stiles knew exactly what she wanted.

He tentatively licked between her legs, unsure and excited. He’d never done this before. When she let out a pleased sigh he felt relieved and pushed his tongue deeper. Lydia’s hands flew to his head, nails pressing against his scalp.

He continued, switching his attention from the lips to her clit every few seconds. Lydia’s grip tightened and he smiled, pulling more sounds out of her.

“Do you remember when I said this bathroom is better for sex?” She asked in between deep breaths, “Well, it’s because I live with my boyfriend.”

He froze, at a loss for what to do next.

“No, no please keep going” Lydia begged, looking down with pleading eyes. He started again, albeit at a much slower pace.

“His name is Jackson. We grew up in the same small town in the south west. Our families approved of the relationship, hell even encouraged it, but he never cared about me. I was just a trophy. Resident beauty and hometown lacrosse star, a perfect couple. We moved out here together and now I’m stuck with him in this stupid city, with nowhere to go.”

He couldn’t tell if her labored breathing came from the sex or the tears slipping down her cheeks. Stiles hoped it was the former and tried to work his tongue faster and deeper, to make her forget about that asshole.

“I don’t understand why I can’t push him away, Stiles. I know he’s pompous, bratty, and selfish but I just can’t do it.” Her knees started to buckle, but he quickly gripped her waist, holding her up.

“Lydia. Don’t think about him. Right now it’s just me and you ok? You are strong and beautiful and shouldn’t have to worry about people like him.” he whispered as he pulled away to meet her eyes. He gave her a warm, caring smile and his heart skipped when she returned it, hopeful grin framed by tear tracks.

With energy he didn’t know he had, he dove back in, doubling his efforts and pushing his tongue in farther than it had gone before. Lydia let out a loud moan, her head thudding softly against the bathroom stall. He was determined to make her remember him and the day they shared together. He’d make her remember that good people care about her, that she wasn’t chained to Jackson like she claimed.

Before he knew it she was orgasming, salty clear liquid splashing against his tongue. He licked her clean and turned away, letting her pull her panties back on. She handed him some tissues which he gladly took, wiping his face and flushing them down the toilet.

“Thank you so much Stiles. You don’t know how much this all meant to me. This whole day has been the best I’ve had in a while.” She looked down at his pants where he was sporting a slight chub. “It would only be fitting if I pay you back” she stated, tugging the neck of his shirt up and closer to her.

Slight panic rose in his chest and he pulled his shirt down, making it slip out of her hands. Not wanting to worry her, he plastered on a bashful smile and gripped his neck. “It’s okay, I’m fine. This will go down quickly and you could say I was paying you back for the keychain.”

He could tell that she wasn’t buying it, but luckily she just huffed and told Stiles she was going back to the car and not to stay too long. It really was a miracle that no one had walked in on them.  
“Oh wait Lydia!” He exclaimed. She turned around, one eyebrow lifted inquisitively.

“Here” he tossed the keys to the Jeep in her direction “I’ll be there in a bit, I’m going to buy something.” She caught the keys easily and nodded, leaving the bathroom. He sighed and traced a line across his collarbone, towards his sternum, thinking of what laid under his clothes.

Looking left and right for anyone, he exited the stall and quickly washed his hands, sneaking out of the girl’s bathroom. He made his way into the attached convenience store, hoping they had what he was looking for. After a few minutes of searching, Stiles found what he was looking for, grabbing it out of the cooler and quickly ringing it up, hoping it wouldn’t melt too much.

He found Lydia sitting in the front seat, legs crossed and the radio blasting some indie pop band. He climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, Lydia having placed the keys in the ignition. He dropped the gift into her lap and she jumped, probably from the coolness of the popsicle. Tearing the packaging she laughed and turned to Stiles, holding it up to his face.

“Really Stiles? A strawberry shaped popsicle? How immature are you?” She asked, licking it.

“Hey, my dad always used to get them for me when I was upset and they cheered me up. Plus, strawberry blonde hair and a strawberry popsicle? How great is that? And to answer your question, yes, I am extremely immature” he answered, a lopsided grin forming. Lydia just laughed again and a comfortable silence settled over them, filled by the gentle buzz of the car and radio.

When Stiles finally made it to Lydia’s house they exchanged numbers, both agreeing to keep in touch. Lydia made him write it down on paper just in case, clipping it behind her ear and covering it with hair. “Sometimes Jackson looks through my phone and deletes the numbers of guys I’ve met, so you might have to be called Stacy for a few months,” she explained. He smiled, pushing down the anger he felt towards her boyfriend. 

“I can totally be Stacy.” Lydia’s eyes softened in a silent thank you and hugged him tightly. She got out of the Jeep, waving goodbye as she closed the apartment complex’s door.

And just like that, Stiles was alone again. But, a warm fuzzy feeling persisted for the rest of the day, making him feel the opposite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my tumblr, [curlyfries111!](https://curlyfries111.tumblr.com/)


	3. Derek, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finally meets Derek!

Stiles double checked he was in the right spot, looking down at the map clutched in his hand. It was his last day in San Francisco. He felt a wave of sadness wash over him, remembering he’d be leaving in less than 24 hours. He had checked out early from the gaudy red and yellow motel, his luggages fitted snugly into the back of his jeep.

He lifted his head up at the sound of trolley motors, getting ready to hop aboard. The plan was to ride the public transportation all day until 5 pm, getting off here and there to see some sights. Then, he’d climb in his car and drive to Los Angeles, never looking back.

As the cable car came forward, its brassy red color reminded him of yesterday. He couldn’t help but think of the Golden Gate Bridge and Lydia. The memories brought a soft smile to his face. They had texted the night before and Stiles had learned that Lydia was much smarter than she led on, working as the manager of a prestigious software company. He already knew that she would become a close friend, regardless of how they met.

The trolley came to a stop and Stiles hopped on, able to find a spot on a bench near the driver. The seat faced outward, allowing him to see the landmarks without turning. As the cable car sped up, so did his heart rate. The next time he got off at that stop would mark the end of his journey through San Francisco.

A small part of him wanted to stay. He wanted to go back to his first night and call Theo. Whenever Stiles would feel the loneliness creep in, he could message him and they would dance for hours till the sun came up, his troubles melting away. He wanted to meet up with Lydia every week. Not just at the Golden Gate, but at every other place he could think of. They would talk for hours, debating every topic they could think of.

But Stiles had planned a road trip and that’s what he was going to do.

The next few hours were a pattern of getting off the cable car, visiting landmarks, and getting back on. He visited parks, murals, and statues, learning everything he could about the city’s culture. Whenever the cable car would return to his original stop he would check the time, staying on if it wasn’t five pm.

Old people left the trolley and new people got on. They were all a blur to Stiles, who was trying to focus on the city around him. Unfortunately, after passing the same street corner 4 times, his eyes couldn't help but wander to the others sitting near him. 

The people on the cable car had thinned out over time, leaving only six of them seated in the front portion of the trolley. On the bench behind him sat a family of four. The older girl had her arms crossed and was resting on her dad while the mother held on tightly to the younger son standing a little too close to the cable car’s edge. An older woman sat near them, wearing a wide brimmed hat and quietly humming a song to herself.

The person who caught his attention the most however was the man who sat on the opposite side of his bench. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties with dark hair and a clean cut beard. His eyes faced forward, but they seemed out of focus, like he wasn’t interested in the sights they passed. Stiles let out a soft snort when he realized the guy was wearing a black leather jacket in the middle of summer.  
Apparently, the snort was louder than he thought, the man turning his head toward Stiles.

“What’s so funny?” The guy asked, his glare making Stiles avert his eyes back to the street. Just great. He thought he could travel through San Francisco without getting on anyone's nerves but there he was, and on his last day nonetheless.

“Nothing, nothing at all!” Stiles blurted out, instinctively trying to diffuse the situation. “I just realized you were wearing a leather jacket in ninety degree weather that’s all” he added, hoping that explaining himself would fix his situation.

The man’s glare softened a fraction and he focused his gaze back to the street as well. His body relaxed against the wooden bench and he hoped that it was a sign of forgiveness.

“It was my dad’s. I don’t leave home without it.”

He tensed, resisting the instinct to look at the older man and comfort him. From how he had said it, it seemed like he hadn’t seen his father in a long time. Instead, Stiles tilted his head down in a gesture of apology. At least he hoped the stranger interpreted it as an apology. They stayed in silence for a few more moments. Stiles was unsure if it was supposed to be uncomfortable or not.

“Can’t focus on the sights either? I came all the way out here for a change of pace, but it’s not going the way I want it to.” the man started, locking eyes with him.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I know I’m not the best seat partner you could’ve gotten” he chuckled, clutching the back of his neck with his hand.

It was the stranger’s turn to let out a snort. “Trust me it’s not you. To be honest, you’re a breath of fresh air. Usually people would avoid sitting near me, much less talk to me.” He couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. He could see why, the guy was built like a truck and his resting face was a permanent scowl. Stiles was intimidated just by looking at him.

“I’ve seen all the sights on the tour but I’m not getting off for another hour or so,” Stiles said, looking down at his watch. “I’m up for chatting if you are buddy” Maybe the stranger wasn’t so bad after all.

“Don’t call me buddy” the man growled, making Stiles flinch in his seat. Shit.

“Okay gotcha, no using buddy. I’m really sorry about-”

“You apologize too much. Just call me Derek” the guy stated, face shifting back to the passive scowl Stiles was slowly getting used to.

. . .

Stiles knew he was a big talker, and while he still was with Derek, there was a difference to how he spoke. Most times, with strangers and friends, he’d ramble on and on in a need to fill the silence, people only half listening. But in Derek’s presence, he could speak about anything in depth and the other man would listen intently, regardless of its importance. The moments of quiet between them were comfortable, unlike the usually awkward silence that followed his tangents.

And when Derek would talk about his life, by some miracle, he could actually sit still and pay attention. It wasn’t that the older man's stories were filled with detail, in fact they were extremely vague. It was that he could feel Derek’s emotions in his words. He could hear the happiness or sadness the man felt, even if he didn’t show it on his face. It made Stiles want to know more about the guy. More than he learned about Theo, more than he learned about Lydia.

“Wait, wait. So where do you even live? All your stories make you sound like you’re a mountain man. Why would you even come here if you had all of that in your backyard? That’s just idiotic” Stiles huffed, crossing his arms and staring down Derek.

“Says the kid with a preserve in his backyard” the older man shot back, a sly grin stretching his lips.

“Shut up, that’s different. Just answer the question,” he mumbled, his face feeling hot. He hoped the shade from the trolley was enough to hide his growing blush. 

“I’m a ranger at Yosemite National Park. I live up there, on the park grounds. So yeah, I guess you could call me a mountain man.” Derek smiled, leaning slightly closer towards Stiles. He wondered if his seat partner also noticed how they had closed the space between them. Before, there had been enough room for three to sit comfortably. Now, barely one person could squeeze between them, their knees brushing against the other’s frequently.

“Called it!” He shouted, throwing one hand in the air. A couple people behind them turned to look, but he didn’t care like he usually would. Derek had started laughing, its clear sound driving everything else out of his mind. A hot, tightening feeling began building behind his ribs, warming his whole being. Stiles didn’t know what to make of it, but he knew that if it kept going, he would slowly become addicted to it. He decided then he wanted to make Derek laugh as much as possible.

“Yosemite is the last stop on my road trip! I could probably make some time in my schedule and see you then,” he exclaimed, excited he’d be able to meet the older man again.

Derek’s reaction was the exact opposite, his face deadpan. “Are you serious Stiles? From what you’ve told me that’s almost three months away. I won’t even remember you by then.”

He gasped, covering his upper chest with his hand. “What?! How could you forget about me that easily?” he tilted his head back, mock disappointment on his face.

“You’re right, I could never forget the whiny little kid I met in San Francisco that tried convincing me the Dakotas should merge into one state.”

It was Stiles’ turn to glare at Derek, anger starting to bubble under his skin. “I’m not some little kid, I’m 22 and that was a perfectly reasonable argument.”

Derek chuckled at his words and in a second the anger dissipated, replaced by that warm feeling in his chest again. He felt better by the man’s side for some reason, even if they had been strangers less than an hour ago. Stiles wanted to feel like that forever, pushing down the stray thought telling him it would end any second.

“I have a proposition,” Derek said, placing his arm around Stiles’ shoulders. “Come to Yosemite tomorrow instead of Los Angeles. Meet me at the Big Oak entrance at 9 AM and I’ll show you the best places in all of the park. L.A. has nothing on us.”

“And if I don’t come?” Stiles asked, looking down to his entwined hands.

“If you don’t show up after an hour I’ll assume you’ve gone south and wipe you, along with this night, from my memory,” Derek said in a flat, dull tone, making Stiles pale. He had spent years planning these three months down to the hour. Of course he should flat out refuse Derek. But he couldn’t get the words out. There was a knot of fear lodged in his throat, fear that he would never see Derek again, that he would never feel this happy again.

The older man seemed to notice him lost in thought, lightly shaking him with the arm still draped over his shoulders. “Hey, Stiles are you ok? I was joking about forgetting you.”

He pushed all the thoughts to the back of his mind, determined to enjoy the last few moments he had with Derek. “Yeah I’m a ok, just zoned out for a sec” he explained, forcing a smile. Looking at the other man’s face, he could see that Derek wasn’t convinced.

The trolley slowed down, returning to the original stop where Stiles got on. He gazed down at his watch, the small hand very close to the five. He sighed and stood up, patting down his pants. Derek’s arm fell off his back and he felt a pang of sadness at the loss of contact.

“Well, this is my stop. It was really nice meeting you. You made this day even better than I thought it would be.” Each step he took felt as if there were weights attached to his feet, growing heavier the farther he got from Derek. Stiles couldn’t imagine how he would get to his Jeep in his state.

His thoughts were interrupted by a big clang that came from behind him, a sound he knew meant someone was getting off. As he started to turn around, hope growing in his chest, an arm slinked in between his, successfully locking elbows with him. He caught sight of black leather and looked up to see a smile surrounded by a clean black beard. His heart became a broken dam, warmth swelling and flooding to every inch of his body.

“Don’t think I wasn’t going to spend every second I can with you” Derek said, tilting his head to one side. Stiles’ breath caught in his throat. All he could do was stare at the taller man in awe, wondering how a stranger could possibly leave him this captivated.

Stiles lightly elbowed the other man, flashing a cocky grin. “Well, if you’ve already made up your mind then I have no choice but to deal with you.”

“Haha, very funny,” Derek said, rolling his eyes. They didn’t speak while they walked to Stiles’ car, letting their footsteps and the sounds of the city fill the gap instead.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but it was a good idea for you to bring that jacket. It’s surprisingly getting chilly.” he said, shivering as a cool breeze hit him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles could see Derek staring at his arm covered with goosebumps. “It’s because we’re so close to the ocean. The tide would be coming in by now too. Here.”

They broke apart and Stiles watched as the older man took off his leather jacket, thrusting it in his direction with one hand. He carefully took the garment and gingerly put it on, knowing how important it was to Derek.

“Thank you” he whispered and Stiles could feel a hand wrap around his waist, comforting and grounding. He wished they could stay together longer, but he could see his jeep in the distance. It was the first time Stiles dreaded spotting the pale blue color.

“This is what you drive?” Derek asked, eyebrow raised, smile lopsided.

He huffed, crossing his arms, ready to defend his favorite possession. He still couldn’t understand why everyone had the same reaction to his car. “Yeah, I drive her and she’s sturdy and reliable, not to mention she has that vintage look everyone likes right now. What do you drive, sourwolf?”

He could see Derek’s eyebrow twitch in annoyance at the nickname. “Black Camaro” he said smugly, as if he knew it would get on Stiles’ nerves.

“Good choice. Dark and broody, just like you,” he quipped, shooting a grin in the other man’s direction. As they reached the jeep, Stiles broke away from the embrace, choosing to lean on the front door instead.

“Maybe, but they’re also fast and sexy.” Derek added, leaning in so that their chests were brushing against each other. Stiles had to tilt his head up to keep eye contact.

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been in one before” he said, holding back giggles from how cheesy Derek’s flirting was.

“I could take you for a spin?” the older man questioned, hot breath ghosting over Stiles’ face as he swayed infinitely closer. From this distance, he could spot a shine in Derek’s eyes that he hadn’t seen the entire night. He hoped that Derek could see a similar glimmer in his.

He was unable to hold back his laughter and swung his arms around the other’s neck. “Come here already you big idiot” he chuckled, pulling Derek closer.

This kiss was different from the ones he shared with Theo and Lydia. Their kisses were passionate and dominating. Stiles was a conduit for their pleasure. But Derek’s was soft and tender, giving them equal control.

They kissed long and slow, learning as much as possible about the other. He could feel Derek’s hand snaking up to hold the back of his neck. The touch was grounding and Stiles leaned into it, wishing once again he could stay there forever.

His mind was growing hazy from the pleasure coursing through his body and there was a tightness in his neck telling him he needed oxygen. He tried as hard as he could to ignore it, cherishing every second until he had to pull back, slumping against the jeep and taking deep gulps of air.

“So, what do you think about me now?” Derek said in between heavy breaths, hand still on Stiles’ neck.

“I thought we were talking about cars,” he couldn’t help but say, laughing as the older man frowned adorably. As an apology, he kissed him under his right eye.

“I really want you to come tomorrow” Derek said suddenly, locking eyes with him. Stiles’ heart dropped seeing the emotion in the other’s eyes. He didn’t know what to do.

“I’ll see what I can do. I’m sorry.” he admitted, looking away. He was too embarrassed to gaze at Derek, scared he’d see a broken man in his place. The leather jacket he wore suddenly felt heavy, weighing down on his shoulders and reminding him it was there.

He carefully took the garment off, handling it like glass. “Here you are, I almost forgot about this, sorry.”

When Stiles didn’t feel the jacket leave his hand, he lifted his head begrudgingly, afraid to look at the other man. However, when he caught sight of him, his eyes widened in surprise.

Instead of the sadness he expected to see on Derek’s face, there was a fierce determination there, as if he was offered a challenge he knew he had to win.

“Keep it. You can return it to me tomorrow. Or in three months. Your choice.” he stated. With those words, he turned around, walking back in the direction of the trolley.

“Derek, Der-” he started yelling, but the older man raised one hand in the air and kept walking. He wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a goodbye or a warning not to follow. As he watched the retreating figure, Stiles couldn’t process what had happened in the past few seconds. He was stunned and confused and disoriented and he needed to sit down.

He fumbled through his pockets for the jeep’s key and was miraculously able to fit it into the lock. He dropped into the driver’s seat, setting down the leather jacket in the parallel chair. He could only stare at the coat, still not understanding what just happened.

What the hell was he going to do tomorrow?


	4. Derek Part 2

He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

After Derek left, Stiles didn’t know what to do. Well, that was a lie. He knew what he needed to do. He used to think that was following his three month plan down to each minute detail. But the more time he spent in the city, and the more people he met, he realized how much he wanted to stray away from his original objective.

Having already checked out of his motel and not wanting to spend more money, he decided to sleep in the back of his jeep. He’d done it plenty of times before, so he was confused as to why it was the middle of the night and he was still awake.

He simply couldn’t get Derek out of his mind, replaying the events of the evening over and over again. It was perfect. Until it all burst in flames of course. Part of him wanted to leave right then, drive all night, and throw himself into Derek’s arms, never leaving them again. The other part dreaded every second that passed, knowing he would have to look the other man in the eyes after what had happened. Would it be weird between them? Would Derek push him away?

Stiles tilted his head towards the front seat, leather jacket draped over the head rest. He hadn’t touched it since he first placed it there, but his eyes wandered in its direction countless times, almost instinctively.

Without thinking, he grasped the coat in his hand, clutching it close to his chest. With a shaky breath, he inhaled Derek’s scent, a mix of smoke, sage, and the forest. Already familiar to his subconscious, the fragrance calmed him down, slowing his heartbeat and breathing. As Stiles drifted off, there was a moistness collecting near his eyes he decidedly ignored. It would dry by the time he woke up. With that final thought, he slipped into sleep, enveloped by the thoughts of trees and Derek.  
. . .

The Golden Gate Bridge keychain dangling from his rear-view mirror stilled as he pushed the car’s gear shift into park. Only a few minutes ago he was chatting with the worker looking over the Big Oak entrance, trying to figure out where he should meet Derek. The woman had simply said to park his car in the nearest lot and the older man would find him eventually.

He hopped out of the jeep, gravel crunching underneath hiking boots Stiles didn’t think he would unpack for another week. Derek’s jacket was folded and cradled in his arms, held as if it was fragile glass.

A knot made its way up to Stiles’ chest, wedging itself between his ribs. He wanted to see Derek more than anything else, yet at the same time had an urge to hide behind the jeep and blink out of existence. He idly wondered how a person could do this, amplifying his emotions more than one of his panic attacks ever could.

His gaze shifted down to the watch on his wrist. Stiles made it ten minutes earlier than Derek expected him. Perfect. Maybe he could use that time to steady himself before facing the other man. Head lifting back up, his entire body stiffened.

Or maybe not.

Several feet away stood Derek, dressed in the long green slacks and grey button down of a national park ranger. The mandatory stetson hat rested in his hand, short, black hair messy from where it used to sit. If Stiles wasn’t ridgid from nerves he would have been drooling over how good the older man’s biceps looked in the short sleeves.

He was frozen in place, unable to even speak. All he could do was stare at Derek, waiting for what would happen next. The seconds felt like minutes and Stiles could hardly handle the silence between them.

With shaky hands and a shakier voice, he shoved the jacket in Derek’s direction and concentrated on the gravel beneath his feet, too scared to look him in the eyes.  
“Th- this is yours. I’m sorry for what happened yesterday, I should have just told you I was coming. I think deep inside I knew I would but I couldn’t -” 

Before Stiles could finish, something crashed into his body, knocking the breath out of him with a thump. He was enveloped by a warmth he missed all too much and sunk into it, ignoring how uncomfortable it was paired with hot California air.

“I should be the one who’s sorry. I manipulated you emotionally and made it even worse by blackmailing you with my jacket. I just wanted to see you again. I didn’t want to lose you,” Derek whispered in the crook of Stiles’ neck. It was gruff and slightly reluctant, revealing how the man wasn’t usually one to apologize, making the confession even more meaningful to him.

Pulling away, Stiles was finally able to look into Derek’s eyes, surprised that they were somewhat misty. “Don’t worry. I probably would’ve come even without the leather jacket. I couldn’t miss out on a VIP tour of Yosemite,” he grinned brightly, hoping the other man could understand a fraction of the happiness he felt seeing him again.

Derek’s grin was equally as bright and it made Stiles’ heart skip a beat. “Speaking of, you have the best tour guide around. I basically grew up in the park.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, really” Derek assured, leading the way to a trail while Stiles happily followed. “My mom was one of the head rangers during her time working in the park. I was raised in these woods. I know most of these trails like the back of my hand.”

“But isn’t that kind of scary? Growing up in a place where a bear could pop out at any moment?” he quipped, taking in the beauty of the forest surrounding them.

Derek stopped and turned back, his devilish expression sending shivers down Stiles’ spine. “The bears know not to mess with me.”

He had no clue what the other man meant by that, but dammit if it wasn’t attractive, the words making him more hot than he needed to be.

For the next few hours, Derek made it his mission to show him all the best things about the park he could and it was Stiles’ mission to take it all in, asking a seemingly infinite amount of questions during their hikes. He had grown up with a preserve behind his childhood home, but it was nothing compared to having Yosemite as your personal backyard.

During their long treks, they had grown exceptionally close, sharing everything about their lives that they hadn’t on the trolley. He told Derek about his mother, her death, and the aftermath while he listened to the other man explain his large family and the fire that killed most of them. They were both products of loss and loneliness and yet still came together to be not so lonely.

“After the fire, I rebuilt the cabin. For the first year I couldn’t go close to it without destroying the wreckage even more. Eventually, I decided rebuilding it would honor their legacy.” Derek stated, slowing down his pace to walk step by step with Stiles.

“That’s amazing. And your mom sounded like a great, strong person.” He chuckled, realizing where Derek probably got his broodiness from. “I think her and my mom would have gotten along well.”

“Definitely, from how you described her.” Derek came to a stop slowly, putting a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from walking any further.

“This place is my favorite area in the park. I’ve only been up here with my mother and sister before, but I wanted to share it with you too” the older man said, face tinted red and gaze intensely focused on a tree conveniently in the opposite direction of Stiles.

Derek took his hand and led him off the trail on its left side. As they walked, the trees grew thinner until they reached a clearing. The view left Stiles dumbstruck, eyes and mouth open in awe.

They stood on the edge of a cliff, nestled into a half circle of rock, an enormous waterfall in the center of their vision. Pine and evergreen framed the rock in a deep forest green and a sliver of the horizon could be seen, painted in the pinks and oranges from a summer sunset. 

Stiles’ hearing was overtaken by the roar of the waterfall, not unpleasant, but powerful and ever present. When the wind pushed against him, it would bring mist from the waterfall with it, wetting his face and hair.

He felt a giddiness rise up in his throat, not unlike at the Golden Gate, and started to laugh, letting out whoops and yells. It all made him feel free and whole. It made him feel human.

Next to Stiles, Derek began to crumple in on himself, his blush turning bright crimson and his soft smile morphing into an enraged frown.

“Screw you, it was a waste to bring you here if you were just going to laugh” the older man said, taking a step back into the brush. Refusing to let him run away again, Stiles clutched his hand, pulling Derek back to the ledge.

“This,” he said while motioning to the view, “Is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life. And it’s even better with you next to me.” Not waiting for the other’s response, he smashed their lips together. Derek kissed back harder shortly after, wetly pushing his mouth against Stiles’. It was somehow better than their first kiss, so hot it felt like their two souls were mingling, becoming one as each second passed.

After pulling away, Derek leaned towards him, foreheads touching. A laugh escaped from the older man as he cradled the back of Stiles’ head, already damp from the waterfall mist.

He tried to shift his body in order to get closer to Derek, but as he put one foot up, he felt the other slip, rocks also wet from the constant sprays of water. Stiles’ heart stopped. Great. That’s it, he was going to die. Fall off the ledge and smash over the rocks before even becoming an FBI agent. He squeezed his eyes shut, tensing his body for impact.

It never came, a strong, crushing hold surrounding him in place of it. He could feel Derek’s heavy breathing against his chest and looked up. An expression of pure horror was plastered on the man’s face, making Stiles’ heart wilt at his pain. He nuzzled into the crook of Derek’s shoulder, making sure the guy knew he was here safe and sound.

It seemed to work, the man’s breathing and chest steadying. “Maybe next time we shouldn't kiss while standing on a cliff” Derek whispered, exhaustion clear in his voice.

“You don’t say.” he answered sarcastically, making sure Derek could see his sly grin. Slowly, they made their way back to the path and down the mountain. 

As they neared the bottom, Stiles realized his surroundings and its foliage looked different compared to the area near his jeep. “Hey Derek? Where are we headed? Cause I don’t think this is the right way back.”

The older man hiking next to him lightly bumped their sides together, grinning down at Stiles. “No matter what you say, I still feel like I forced you to come here. So, it’s only right for me to offer you food and shelter.” Derek paused for a second, looking around for something unknown to Stiles.

“We’re heading to your place?” Stiles questioned, impressed with the older man’s thoughtfulness. 

“Yeah. Come on, this way.” Derek said, ushering him to follow his lead quickly. Stiles obliged, wanting to get out of the woods as soon as possible with the sun going down.

“Why are you always so vague? You did the same thing with the cliff you know” he huffed, starting to feel the fatigue from all the hours they walked. He was hyper aware of the inside of his hiking shoes brushing up against his socks, creating bruises he’d rather not deal with.

“Sorry. Force of habit. I haven’t really talked to many people outside my remaining family and the other park rangers. Usually when I’m walking with someone they know which way I’m headed.”

Stiles could finally spot a house in the distance after Derek’s explanation, the ruddy view of it becoming clearer the closer they got. Looking at it from the outside, it didn’t look like anything special, simply a house made for the purpose of living, not luxury.

Derek dipped down, lifting a potted plant up to uncover a small silver key attached to a key ring. “That’s where I keep the extra key,” he said, rising back up to unlock the door.

“I could have guessed that with how obvious the hiding place is. What’s the use in telling me?” he chuckled, loving to see the normal, human parts of Derek. When he laughed, when he blushed, when he hid keys in obvious places. It reminded him that under the tough exterior and curt sentences he was just a big, awkward softie.

“Not enough neighbors to need a clever hiding spot and I’m telling you for the next time you visit.” Stiles blushed at the words, tacking smooth talker onto the continuous list of adjectives he used to describe Derek.

As he walked into the cabin, a cool gust of air hit him along with the smell of cooking meat. The area exuded a comfy and calm atmosphere, made up of greens and browns, wood and leather. It suited the other man really well.

He flopped onto the couch, exhausted after a full day of hiking. The soft leather gave way, letting him comfortably sink into the couch, eliciting a groan of relief out of him. “I don’t think I’m ever going to leave this couch Derek. It’s insanely comfy.”

The other man just laughed, wandering over to Stiles’ side. He gingerly kissed his forehead, before littering butterfly kisses down his neck, stopping at the bottom of his collarbone. “I think you’ll want to move if you knew what we were having for dinner,” Derek remarked, grinning in his direction knowingly.

Hearing the man’s words, his body shot up, almost hitting Derek in the process. He turned towards him, adoration clear on his face. “You had me at dinner.”

. . . 

After the best short braised ribs Stiles had ever eaten, the two of them were sitting back on the couch, legs entangled together while each of them leaned against opposing arms of the sofa. The lights were set low and the murmurings of a random movie filled the background. Both were holding a glass of red wine, Derek almost finished with his first and Stiles working on his second.

“You know, this might be really stupid to say,” he exclaimed between lazy sips, “but I like you. Like, really, really like you. And I really, really like all this,” he proclaimed while motioning at everything in the room.

“It’s not stupid. I feel the same way Stiles” Derek murmured, eyes drooping low, hinting at his tiredness. “Everything seems brighter with you around. San Francisco, my house, even the park.”

“It would be hard to balance with being an FBI agent” he uttered, slowly stroking his chin, changing the subject. “But when I don’t have a case I could always come back here and stay for as long as I can.”

A luster appeared in Derek’s eyes, the other man setting his wine glass down steadily on the nearby wooden coffee table.

Derek’s foot stretched out, catching the hem of his shirt. “I’d like that.”

Feeling the rucking of his top, Stiles gasped slightly, every muscle growing tense at the sudden action. He felt conflicted at what to do next and could feel his eyebrows knotting together. Derek seemed to notice his mood swing, concern blooming across his features. “Hey are you ok?”

“Actually, there’s something I have to show you” he responded shakily, detangling his legs from Derek’s and putting his wine glass away as well. He crawled over to the other man, slotting his legs around his torso, straddling him. He gripped the man’s shoulders, trying to find some sense of balance and strength.

Slowly, he grabbed the bottom of the shirt, peeling it off his body. Stiles dropped it onto the floor, unworried about it becoming crumpled. He kept his head held high and concentration on the ceiling, frightened of Derek’s reaction.

A shudder racked his body as a finger traced a line across the unnatural, raised skin right above his hip bone. “Stiles. How did you get all these scars?”

“Some of them are from accidents. Most are… purposeful. It was so lonely when my mom left. My dad would always work double shifts just to avoid the house. And when he drank, I just couldn’t take it.” he confessed, tears welling and cascading down his face. He was ready for Derek to sneer, to push him away in disgust, admitting he was ugly and unlovable.

“Stiles, look at me.” Derek pleaded, emotion clear in his voice. Body shaking, he had to use all his strength in order to tilt his face towards him.

Instead of the loathing he expected, Derek’s expression was sincere, something fierce lingering in his eyes. There wasn’t a trace of detest, confusion, or negativity. The realization punched a quivering, ugly sound out of Stiles, the tears flowing harder.

“I don’t care about the scars. I think you’re beautiful with or without them.” Derek stated, words so heartfelt, Stiles could feel he meant every one. “I have more on my back” he stammered, not knowing what else to say. With the older man’s help, he turned around, staying on his lap, an island of comfort in a sea of uncertainty.

The position was better, he didn’t have to look Derek in the eyes. Head down, he twiddled his thumbs, giving the other man all the time he needed to process it. Suddenly, his breath hitched, feeling a pair of searing lips against his biggest scar, a jagged line trailing up the mid left of his back.

Derek unhurriedly and thoroughly kissed every scar on Stiles’ back, from the nape of his neck to the top of his jeans. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through his body, all pooling together to create a delicious heat that was taking over the lower half of his body. When there was no scar left untouched on the back, Derek grabbed his arm, kissing his way down. Stiles couldn’t remember when he leaned back, nuzzling himself against the other man’s chest and coming undone from the intimacy of it all.

After reaching the tips of his fingers, Derek smiled at him, eyes sultry and promising more. “Do you want to do it?” he asked, voice soft and cupping his cheek. Leaning into the touch he nodded vigorously, whimpering at the contact. “You need to give me a vocal answer, Stiles” Derek asked more strictly, taking his hand away.

“Yes, yes please, I want it,” he responded desperately, chasing after the retreating hand. Derek chuckled at his antics, returning his fingers to Stiles, this time on his side. He was confused why the hand ended up there until he heard the other man say, “hold on,” and felt himself being picked up.

He yelped at the sudden change in position, slinging his arms around Derek’s neck and thighs around his hips to avoid falling. “I want you Stiles, but I’m not going to take you on the couch.”

He giggled at the remark, imagining how that would go. “That’s ok.” he breathed out, leaning close to Derek’s ear. “We can save that for next time.”

He grinned, realizing his teasing worked as Derek’s body tensed and the man growled, hot breath blowing against his collarbone. He peppered kisses along the man’s face and neck, enjoying the feeling of stubble against his soft skin.

Before he knew it, Stiles was dropped onto a bed with a small oof. Derek fell with him, continuing the assault on his body. The man sucked and licked down his torso, punching whines out of him. He looped his hands though Derek’s hair, grinding against the sinful tongue.

Hearing the sound of his belt buckle being undone, Stiles shimmied out of his pants, desperate for the older man’s concentration to return solely to him. Derek shucked his shirt off, revealing the expanse of his chest. A jolt of heat went through him, yearning to touch every inch of the man’s defined front.

He reached up and thumbed Derek’s nipple, the older man letting out a low groan. He grinned and winked up at him, proud he could unravel Derek as much as he had Stiles. The victory was short lived however, Derek pushing a lubed finger into him, ripping an obscene moan from his throat.

“You’re looser than I thought,” Derek grunted, adding a second finger. “Have you done this before baby?”

“Yeah. Two times.” he mewled, trying his best to stay coherent. His eyes rolled back as he felt the other man spread his fingers inside of him, one hitting his prostate.

“Are you ok? Can I put a third one in?” Derek cooed above him, absently flicking his nipples and adding to the onslaught of pleasure taking over Stiles.

“Yesh please, please” he slurred out, moving his hips to push the man’s fingers farther in. He sighed in relief as the third digit entered, finally allowing him to feel the stretch and burn he needed.

“I’m ready, I can take it, I can take it,” he pleaded, moving his hips, futilely trying to take the fingers deeper again.

“Ok, ok, calm down. You’re so needy,” Derek husked, laughing at Stiles’ pout.

“Am notttt,” he whined as the man’s fingers slipped out of him, leaving him gaping and empty. He stayed quiet as Derek slicked up his cock, refusing to sound ‘needy’ as Derek put it. 

His silence was rewarded when he felt the blunt head lined up with his ass. Derek’s finger circled his ring, humming a sound of approval. “Look at you. Your slutty hole is sucking me in,” Stiles blushed, knowing Derek’s words were true, the head of the cock almost completely engulfed without any movement from the older man.

Suddenly, Derek gripped at his hips, pushing his cock into him with one thrust. He cried out, feeling impossibly full. There was no movement from the other man, only soft kisses against the scars on his chest. He breathed heavily and looked up to Derek who looked divine under the soft yellow LEDs.

“You look so good under me,” the older man whispered in between kisses, not breaking eye contact with Stiles.

“You look so good above me,” he snarkily replied, keening when Derek moved slightly inside of him.

“You never shut up do you?” he muttered endearingly. Before Stiles could respond, Derek started moving at a merciless pace, pounding into him. All he could do was sit there and take it, drowning in pleasure. Derek was big and hit his prostate with every thrust, making his cock leak a constant stream of precum onto his stomach. Without thought, he swiped some onto two fingers, bringing it up to his lips. Making sure Derek was looking, he put the digits in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and sucking loudly.

Derek’s eyes widened and he pushed impossibly deeper, his pace becoming erratic and brutal. Stiles could feel his body tighten, pleasure building more and more until it tempted to overflow. “Derek, Derek, I’m gonna cum” he rasped out before the dam overflowed, sending shockwaves through his body.

He could feel Derek drive into him two more times, grunting as he locked them together at the hips, hot semen splashing against his insides, pulling another small orgasm out of Stiles. 

Coming down from his high, he grabbed Derek’s hair, kissing him slow and gentle. He let the older man clean him and tuck him in, realizing how tired he was. When Derek slipped into bed, he snuggled up against him, using his hirsute chest as a pillow.

“So, next time we do it on the couch?” he lazily inquired, smiling when he heard a huff come from the other man. 

“Whatever you want,” Derek stated, petting his damp hair. “Now go to sleep Stiles.” 

Deciding to listen to the older man, he closed his eyes, letting the darkness take him. However, before slipping completely, he could hear Derek mutter something to himself, catching it before he passed out.

“Laura is never going to let me hear the end of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys are finally together, took them long enough ;)
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you who read through this series and stuck with it! It was definitely a journey making this and while the writing isn't my favorite, I'm at least happy that I was able to put the whole story and concept out there. Till next time! <3


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